A choice was given them to escape these sufferings and degradations by entering "the religion of love unto all men." Thousands upon thousands of Jews availed themselves of this only alternative, and became feigned converts, or "new Christians," as they were called. They amply regretted the change later, but at present it seemed to them an almost justifiable step. The preceding chapters have acquainted us with the character of the Spanish Jews, with their high intellectual attainments, with their lofty demeanor, with their high social and political and industrial and commercial standing. Think of them now asked to sacrifice all these advantages, because the iron-handed and iron-hearted brute force of the priests so wanted it. Feel as they must have felt, when they were asked to exchange their mansions of elegance and refinement for the wretched hovels of the Ghetto; to lay aside their garments of silk, and their ornaments of grace and beauty and costliness, and don the gaberdine of disgrace; to drop the reins of the world's commerce which they held in their hands, and, instead, take a pack upon their back and wander from house to house, an object of ridicule and shame, and jeers and maltreatment. Think as they must have felt and thought and you will think less harshly of their feigned change of faith. For a time all seemed bright. The "converts" were especially honored. They were appointed even to high ecclesiastical and municipal offices; their sons and daughters married into noble, and even royal families. The few drops of baptismal water did not, however, change the character of the Jews. Their prosperity was as great as before, and, unlike the credulous and superstitious Spaniards, they failed to see any reason why they should lavish their worldly goods upon the Church. They preferred to do their own "taking care of," and their own "praying for" their soul. This was their crime. Their superior skill and industry, and the superior riches which these qualities secured, and their high standing in the community, aroused the priesthood's envy and covetousness. Thus the charge arose that the converts had relapsed into their old faith. The charge was not unfounded. The allegiance to the Church was that of compulsion, and it never was anything else, except a masked external allegiance. The heart, soul, conscience, mind, continued Jewish, and as fervently so as ever before. This "scandalous spectacle of apostates returning to wallow in the ancient mire of Judaism," was the pretext by means of which the Dominicans sounded the alarm. And the Inquisition came to cure them of their back-sliding.